


snowed in

by blindinglights



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Mutual Pining, Riding, Rimming, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindinglights/pseuds/blindinglights
Summary: “Yeah? Are you going to keep me warm?” Stiles asks.“Yeah, I’ll keep you warm,” Derek replies.“So we’re going to share some body heat, get a little close.” Stiles waggles his eyebrows. “In that big ol’ bed up there?”Derek’s quiet for a beat before saying, “Yes.”There’s a faint blush on Derek’s face and Stiles is left blinking at him. He was mostly joking, trying to get a rise out of Derek, but he clearly took it in a different direction than Stiles was fully meaning. Sharing a bed would help, with doing nothing else. Just huddling close. But…“Do you want to?” Stiles asks, as he finds himself moving a few inches closer. Derek’s hand is lying flat on the floor, almost close enough for Stiles to grab, but he refrains from doing it.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 24
Kudos: 553
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	snowed in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kalika_999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts).



> This is written for Kali for the Fandom Trump's Hate auction! They gave me some ideas/likes and I ended up writing this. I'm not even going to lie, it's mostly smut. I hope you like this, Kali, and thank you for bidding on me and for donating for a good cause. :)
> 
> Thank you to gayglitterbabe for beta'ing!

“Looks like we’re stuck here,” Stiles says as he peers through the blinds. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to drive back in that weather.” 

The power is luckily still on, although Stiles isn’t too sure how much longer that’s going to last. He doesn’t have super hearing like Derek does, and even he can hear the wind howling outside. The snow storm just keeps getting worse as the night wears on. They might’ve been able to make it if they had left a few hours ago, but neither of them wanted to take that chance and then be stranded in the middle of nowhere without any shelter. So, instead they stayed back at the cabin. Everyone else had left that morning. Now it’s just the two of them, stuck here until the storm passes. It could be days before it lets up enough and the snow is plowed enough to allow safe passage through the roads.

Stiles misses the warmth of Beacon Hills. Sure, it got cold down there at the worst parts of winter, but they never had to deal with snow storms like this.

“We should have enough food to last us until the weather gets better,” Derek says.

“Food we were probably going to be wasting if we had been able to leave,” Stiles adds in.

“And now it won’t go to waste,” Derek says. “Good thing we didn’t throw any of it away yet.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says with a sigh. “Good thing.”

Derek heads over to the fireplace and starts throwing logs into it, before he begins the process of lighting it. Stiles declares he’s going to make hot chocolate before heading into the kitchen. The hot cocoa mix is still sitting on the counter, because Stiles had fixed some that morning for everyone. Once it’s made, he pours two cups full and heads back to plop right in front of the roaring fire. The heat’s still on, but it’s not working as well as Stiles would have hoped, so being in front of the fire is a welcome relief from the dredges of bitter cold that he can feel trying to seep through the cracks of the doors and window sills.

“Do we try watching something on tv?” Stiles asks. “Or do we just sit here in front of the fire in silence?” 

Sure enough, not even a second after the question is past his lips, the electricity flickers twice before going out. Derek swears under his breath. 

“I’m guessing that’s a no,” Stiles says with a small laugh. Derek’s built more to handle colder temps than Stiles is, so he’s hoping this storm doesn’t last that long, because no amount of bundling up in layers is going to protect him for long. For a short time? Sure. But long periods? He’s going to freeze his ass off and die of hypothermia.

God, he really doesn’t want to die of hypothermia. 

“I’m gonna die,” Stiles says dramatically as he tosses his head back against the couch.

“You’re not going to die,” Derek says with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah? Are you going to keep me warm?” Stiles asks. 

“Yeah, I’ll keep you warm,” Derek replies.

“So we’re going to share some body heat, get a little close.” Stiles waggles his eyebrows. “In that big ol’ bed up there?” 

Derek’s quiet for a beat before saying, “Yes.” 

There’s a faint blush on Derek’s face and Stiles is left blinking at him. He was mostly joking, trying to get a rise out of Derek, but he clearly took it in a different direction than Stiles was fully meaning. Sharing a bed would help, with doing nothing else. Just huddling close. But…

“Do you want to?” Stiles asks, as he finds himself moving a few inches closer. Derek’s hand is lying flat on the floor, almost close enough for Stiles to grab, but he refrains from doing it. 

Derek’s answer is a simple nod and a little shrug, like it’s the easiest answer there is. Stiles kinda wants to kiss him, has been wanting to for a long time now. He’s about to blurt out a question, but Derek beats him to it, pulling him close enough until their faces are mere inches apart.

He has no idea if this is a bad idea, but he closes the remaining distance and kisses Derek. It’s chaste at first, just a brush of lips. Eventually, Stiles gets brave enough to swipe his tongue along the seam of Derek’s lips. 

They make out for a good amount of time before pulling away when there’s a loud bang from outside, most likely something hitting the side of the cabin. The fire’s still going in the fireplace, but it’s not nearly enough to keep warm. When Stiles looks back at Derek, it’s to see him staring down at his mouth before his eyes flick back up to Stiles’ face.

“So are we doing this?” Stiles asks.

Derek answers by kissing Stiles again. The kiss this time is more heated, with Derek taking the clear lead, coaching Stles into something that’s deep and slow, Derek’s hands finding his hips. When Derek starts lowering him down onto the rug in front of the fireplace, Stiles goes down easily, with Derek blanketing him. Derek’s hand trails down to grip his thigh, pulling until Stiles gets the hint and wraps it around Derek’s waist.

What they should be doing is trying to see if they still have cell service and try to call Lydia to let her know that they’ve lost power. But instead they’re pulling at each other’s clothes, their hands roaming everywhere like they can’t get enough. They’ve been slowly working toward this for years. Stiles’ crush on Derek could be seen from space. Their friends have said as much. And they’ve had near chances. Like that time back during Stiles’ second year of college, when Derek came over late at night to his dorm room, and they almost kissed then. He doesn’t know why it’s taken them this long, but Stiles is happy to finally be able to kiss Derek, to see how his lips feel against his own. 

Derek starts kissing his way down to his neck, biting down enough to elicit a loud moan from Stiles. His back arches, and Derek makes this little noise in his throat, something between a growl and a happy noise, and it goes straight to Stiles’ dick. They don’t talk much, except for Stiles to help encourage Derek to keep going. When Derek’s hand finally wraps around his dick, Stiles moans and arches his back. 

“Fuck,” Stiles moans. “Okay. So we’re really doing this.” 

“Shut up,” Derek says, nipping at Stiles’ neck which just causes him to moan again. Derek hitches his leg up, wrapping it around his waist again, his grip firm. This time it’s better, both of them naked. 

“I really want you to fuck me,” Stiles says, “but we don’t have any lube and I’m not getting up right now to get it.” 

“I’ll fuck you later,” Derek promises. 

They rut against each other as they both chase their orgasm. Stiles almost suggests that Derek fuck his thighs, but he doesn’t want to move away from where they’re tangled and moving together. This is enough for now. Later, he’ll let Derek fuck him. It doesn’t take long at all until Stiles is coming with a cry of Derek’s name, muffled into Derek’s mouth as Derek kisses him through it.

By the time they’re getting off of the floor, their hot chocolates that were left forgotten are cold. 

-

Stiles wakes up the next morning in bed, tangled up underneath layers of blankets next to Derek, who’s basically a real life furnace. Stiles tries to move closer, tries to wrap more tightly around Derek, feeling the warmth he gives off. He must fall back asleep, because the next thing he knows, he’s blinking awake and Derek’s facing him this time. 

“Morning,” Stiles murmurs, voice a little rough with sleep. 

“Morning,” Derek says, before leaning in to kiss him. 

Stiles is surprised, but happy. They spend a few minutes kissing before Stiles pulls away with a murmur about morning breath. He gets out of bed, shuddering at the cool blast of air. The electricity must still be off. They’re going to have to stay huddled in front of the fireplace until it is back on, though Stiles has no clue when that’ll be. 

He brushes his teeth and then makes his way down to the kitchen. He rummages in the pantry for something to snack on. He doesn’t even know what time it is, for all they know it could be the afternoon instead. When he plops down in front of the fireplace, Derek finally walks into the living room, carrying a few blankets. His sweatpants are lying low across his hips and Stiles licks his lips. Derek watches the movement, his stare turning hungry. 

“I’m going to restart the fire,” Derek announces as he drops the blankets. 

“I’m getting it all cosy here,” Stiles says as he starts fluffing up the blankets and getting them spread out. He pulls a few pillows off of the couch and gets them situated with the blankets.

Eventually Derek settles down next to him. Stiles is already wrapped up in several blankets, but Derek snuggles closer to and wraps an arm around Stiles’ shoulders, pulling him in close. This is nice, Stiles thinks, as they both stare at the crackling fire. It sucks the power went out, but at least he has Derek here. Snuggling for warmth with Derek is a better outcome than if Stiles had been trapped here by himself during this snow storm. 

This would be the perfect opportunity to bring up what happened last night, not to mention the heated kiss this morning. Instead, Stiles turns to Derek and kisses him, soft and slow. Derek seems happy enough to return the kiss, his hands coming up to frame Stiles’ face.

Deep down, Stiles knows not talking about it is such a bad idea. But nobody said Stiles has good ideas when it comes to his love life. Not to mention when it comes to talking about the feelings he has for Derek. They’re in the middle of a snow storm, he might as well enjoy whatever this is.

“Please tell me you grabbed the lube,” Stiles murmurs into Derek’s mouth. 

Derek holds up the little tube and Stiles grins. 

Stiles has imagined all the ways this could happen, but actually getting fucked by Derek is even better. Derek takes his time opening him up. Stiles tries to urge him to hurry it up, but Derek ignores his cries for more and instead wraps his mouth around Stiles’ dick as he presses in with two fingers. By the time Derek’s up to three, Stiles is tugging at Derek’s hair. This is great and all, and any other time Stiles would be fine with being finger fucked until he comes. But right now? He wants more.

“Come on, Derek,” Stiles urges as he tries to tug Derek up. “I’m going to come before you even-” 

Derek wastes no time pushing in and cutting off the rest of Stiles’ sentence.

“Holy shit, yes,” Stiles cries out, his legs wrapping around Derek’s waist.

“Are you happy now?” Derek asks as he thrusts in hard, hard enough to have Stiles sliding against the blanket he’s on. 

Stiles wants to snap something out in reply to that, but instead pulls Derek down for a heated kiss. Derek fucks him slow, but hard, and Stiles keeps trying to get him to go faster. He tries to urge him with a hand on Derek’s ass, but Derek’s not speeding up at all, and instead just keeps at the same pace, torturing Stiles with every slow press in. He can feel his orgasm building and by the time he has any presence of mind to wrap a hand around his dick, he’s coming with a moan against Derek’s mouth. 

-

There’s not a lot of food in the fridge. Derek ends up shifting and bounding out of the house in search of something they can eat. Stiles watches from the back porch as Derek disappears into the woods that surround the cabin. Derek’s not gone for long, only sticking near the house, before he’s coming back through the brush with food in his muzzle. Stiles doesn’t stay to watch Derek do whatever he needs to do to make sure they can eat it. If he did, there’s no way he’d be able to eat it afterward. 

Derek cooks it over a burning fire outside, safely away from the house, and Stiles makes jokes about how great he looks, cooking them a meal over a hot fire, one that Derek went out and hunted himself. Derek rolls his eyes, but finishes their food, before hurrying up and bringing it inside so it can stay somewhat hot. They eat in front of the fireplace, with Stiles sitting between Derek’s legs. Derek keeps one arm around Stiles’ waist the entire time they dig into their meal. It’s so freakin’ nice, and despite the no electricity, he kinda wishes this would never end. 

They spent weeks here with their friends, but Stiles is enjoying this time alone with Derek. Even if they weren’t having tons of sex, Stiles would still be loving it, because it’s not often that he gets time alone with Derek.

-

Stiles moans into the bedspread as Derek licks him open. 

“God,” Stiles groans, and gasps as he feels the vibration of Derek’s laugh.

“Derek’s just fine,” Derek jokes, all the while rubbing his thumb along Stiles’ entrance. Stiles presses back against him, begging for him to either get back to what he was doing, or to finally fuck him. Derek’s been eating him out for what feels like the past half hour, like a man starved. Stiles has been on the edge for a while now. He could come like this. He knows he can. But he’d rather come on Derek’s cock instead.

“Come on, Derek.” Stiles starts to beg. “Fuck me already.” 

Derek moves away for a moment and Stiles hears the tell tale sounds of a condom being torn open. A minute later, Stiles feels it as Derek presses the head of his cock against him and starts pressing inside, torturously slow. Stiles whines, pressing back against Derek, urging him to go harder, faster. Every time they’ve fucked now, Derek’s so careful with him, each press so slow. He doesn’t know why Derek won’t fuck him like he clearly wants. He doesn’t know if he needs to beg louder for Derek’s cock, or what. But he’s seriously not above doing it. 

“Fuck me like you mean it,” Stiles tells him, reaching back to grab ahold of Derek’s hip. 

“I am,” Derek says as he pulls out and starts the slow press in. 

“Fuck me harder, Derek, I’m not going to break,” Stiles says, because he’s not. He can take whatever Derek gives him. 

Derek leans down, whispering in his ear, “I am fucking you like I mean it.” 

“Not how I want it, come on,” Stiles says. 

Derek fucks into him harder on the next stroke in, enough so that it knocks the breath out of Stiles’ lungs. This is exactly what he wants. Stiles cries out as Derek repeats it, fucking into him harder and faster. All he can manage to do is hold onto whatever he can and gasp wetly into the comforter as Derek manages to hit his prostrate on every thrust in. 

It doesn't take long at all before Stiles is coming with a shout of Derek’s name. Derek follows after him, his teeth digging into Stiles’ neck, enough to leave a mark but not break the skin. They both collapse onto the bed with heaving breaths afterward. 

“Oh my god,” Stiles breathes out with an arm covering his face. 

Next to him, Derek is stretched out, looking fucked out and happy. There’s a smile on his face that Stiles hasn’t really seen before, but he wants to see all the time. He’s seen Derek smile before, he’s managed to get him smiling at the most random things, but this one just seems different. He looks content and happy. When Stiles curls up against his side, Derek easily wraps an arm around his waist without even opening his eyes, and Stiles can’t help but the little smile that graces his own face.

It was great sex, so maybe it’s just that, because Stiles isn’t about to spend time analyzing the little bit of hope he might be feeling right now. 

It’s just sex, that’s all they’re doing. A way to keep warm and pass the time.

Right? 

-

“So it’s been four days now without any power,” Stiles comments. 

Derek is sitting on the couch. They’ve burned through so much firewood already, and Stiles is sure if this goes on for a few more days that Derek’s going to have to go out and cut more. Right now, they’re okay. If they were using it all night long, that’d be a different story, but they’ve been huddling for warmth in the bed, with a mountain of covers and Derek’s body heat to keep Stiles warm. 

“I don’t know if we’re going to get it back on by the time the storm finally subsides,” Derek says. “We’ll manage.” 

Stiles tosses his head back with a groan. This cabin doesn’t even have a backup generator. One thing Stiles is going to do when this is all over, is talk to Lydia about getting one installed. At least Stiles has someone who runs hot and that he’s a little bit in love with to cuddle for warmth. But if he didn’t? He’s sure this would be a lot worse than it is. He honestly doesn’t know why there’s no backup generator at all; it doesn’t seem like Lydia would have a cabin without one.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll just cut more wood tomorrow,” Derek suggests. 

“Yeah, sure. We’ll probably need it tomorrow.” Stiles looks over at where Derek’s situated in the corner of the couch and decides to crawl onto his lap. Derek’s hands automatically go to his waist to help balance him on his lap. “We can just keep doing what we've been doing.” 

“Yeah? What’s that?” Derek asks, even though he’s already meeting Stiles halfway. 

They trade lazy kisses on the couch for a long time. They don’t go much farther than jacking each other off, but it still somehow ends up perfect. Stiles comes with Derek’s hand wrapped around his dick and a moan pressed into Derek’s shoulder. Derek isn’t far behind him, his blunt teeth digging into Stiles’ shoulder enough to leave more marks.

-

Stiles watches from the window as Derek starts cutting wood outside. The storm’s not as bad as it was, but the roads are still too dangerous for them to try to make their way back home. He’s sure someone’s going to have to be sent out to plow the roads first. He wonders how much longer it’s going to take. But he kinda doesn’t want this to end, because he’s a little worried their trek home is going to pop whatever bubble this is. 

Maybe he should just talk to Derek. Like ripping off a bandaid, just go up to Derek and ask him, so what is this? But no, instead Stiles is going to keep fucking Derek and pining from afar. He’s too afraid that Derek’s going to say something like “this doesn’t mean anything”, and tell him they’re just friends. He doesn’t want to get his heart broken, which means not taking a chance on talking to the one guy he’s been in love with for years. Stiles knows everyone else would call him an idiot; they’ve been trying to get him to say something for years now. And now that he and Derek been spending all this time fucking? He knows one of them is going to have choice words to say about that. 

Derek spends a half an hour cutting a decent amount of wood. When he comes in, there’s snow on his hair and beard. Stiles can’t help but try to brush off the small flakes. Derek just blinks at him. Stiles lets him walk into the living room and deposit the pile next to the fireplace. Stiles plops down in front of the fire and tries to warm his cold fingers. 

When Derek sits down next to him a little while later, Stiles lets Derek pull him close, until they huddle together in front of their only source of warmth. 

-

As Derek slams him against the wall, Stiles makes a yelp as the feeling of the cold wall touches his back. 

“Cold, cold, cold,” Stiles chants. Without the heat on, the wall feels like ice on his back. This house is too cold without any heat. There’s no way he’s going to get his wish at all. He’s really sad about that.

While still keeping his hands firm on Stiles’ legs, Derek moves him to the bed, where he deposits him. 

Stiles pouts up at him. “I really wanted you to fuck me against that wall.” 

“Not when you’re going to complain about how cold it is,” Derek says. 

Stiles wants to say something like, _next time we’re somewhere warm_ , but bites his tongue. He doesn’t even know if they will still be doing this once they leave. He hopes so, but he’s not going to keep his hopes up. He’s also not going to make himself sad here. Not when Derek’s standing before him in all his naked glory.

“Come down here then,” Stiles says, beckoning Derek forward, who follows him up the bed easily. Stiles pulls him into a kiss as Derek thrusts against him, the feeling of their dicks rubbing together eliciting a noise from Stiles. He doesn’t know what he wants now. He’s perfectly happy to just lay here and rub off together. But he’s already prepped and ready, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want Derek to fuck him. 

They spend the longest time just trading soft kisses, before Derek finally positions himself and starts pressing inside. Derek’s barely holding himself up by his forearms on either side of Stiles’ head, his arms shaking with the effort of trying to keep still. Stiles wraps his legs around Derek’s waist, digging his heels into Derek’s ass and urging him to finally fucking move. Derek pulls out, pushes back in, and starts up a rhythm that has Stiles tossing his head back as he moans and cries out Derek’s name at every perfect thrust in. Derek fucks like a dream, and Stiles can’t seem to get enough. All they’ve been doing is having sex, but Stiles would be so happy to do this for the rest of his life, and never once grow tired at the feeling of it. 

Stiles wants to tell him he loves him, but refrains from doing so, because he doesn’t want to ruin this perfect moment with his feelings. He comes so close to it though, a few near misses of saying the L word. He bites his lip enough to draw blood. Derek notices what he’s doing and instead coaxes him back into a kiss, one so soft that it almost makes Stiles want to cry with how gentle Derek is. 

“Derek,” Stiles gasps into his mouth. 

“Come for me,” Derek urges, and Stiles can’t help but comply. He comes with a shout, spilling between their bodies. 

Stiles must fall asleep for a second, because the next moment he knows Derek is quickly running a wet cloth along his stomach to clean him up. The cold water is enough to make him wake up and shy away from the touch. Afterwards, Derek dries him off and gets into bed, snuggling close to Stiles’ body and attempting to warm him up. They’re buried under so many blankets, and Stiles loves it. He rests his head against Derek’s chest and closes his eyes, feeling the warmth from Derek’s body. 

Derek says something, but Stiles is practically asleep and doesn’t register the words that come out of his mouth.

-

The electricity doesn’t come on the next day either. That officially marks six days of no power. They still have a decent amount of nonperishable foods to eat. He’s not sure what they’d do if they didn’t have any stored away. It’s mainly just snack foods and things they can heat over a fire. The canned food doesn’t taste the best, but if he can survive college dorms, he can survive eating shitty canned food for a week. He’s certain it’s going to be a week, by how things are going right now. Longer, if they’re not lucky. 

“I wonder what everyone’s doing right now,” Stiles says. 

They’re playing with a deck of cards by the fire, the curtains in front of the big window wide open to let in what little light there is outside. He’s sure it’s currently the middle of the day, but with the heavy cloud cover it makes it look later. 

Derek snorts as he sets down his hand. “Probably worried about us.” 

“I’m honestly a little surprised Lydia hasn’t tried getting someone out here for us.” 

“They probably think we’ll be fine,” Derek says. “Also know the storm will pass eventually.” 

“True,” Stiles says as he lays out his own hand. “Alright, big guy, if I lose this next round, I’ll blow you.” 

Derek raises his eyebrows. “What will I have to do if I lose?”

Stiles shrugs. “Let me ride you, and you can’t touch me at all.” 

Derek seems to take a moment to consider this, before saying, “Deal.” 

Derek ends up losing. 

Stiles gets Derek laid out on the ground, his hands digging into the couch cushions as Stiles slowly starts to ride him. The third roll of his hips down, and Derek claws start ripping into the couch cushions where he’s holding on tightly. Derek’s eyes are heavily lidded, but Stiles can see how they keep flashing red every time Stiles bounces on his lap. He loves how he’s making Derek lose control like this. Derek’s usually so great at keeping control, it’s the one thing he’s constantly boasting about. But Stiles just has to fuck himself on his cock, and Derek’s control is gone in an instant. Stiles won’t lie, it’s a little bit of a power rush. There’s just something hot about seeing Derek so close to shifting, all because Stiles is riding him just right. 

“Look at you,” Stiles murmurs, cupping Derek’s face. His fangs are peeking out, and Stiles runs a finger along one, before coaxing Derek into a quick kiss. The words are there, on the tip of Stiles’ tongue again, but he bites them back and instead leans back. He rests his hands on Derek’s strong thighs and starts working himself hard and fast on Derek’s cock. 

He can feel Derek’s barely contained restraint, the way his thighs shake with the need to thrust up into Stiles’ tight heat. Stiles quickly chases his orgasm, feels it as it builds and builds, before he’s coming harder than he has in awhile. Derek’s not far behind him, the rest of his control finally snapping as he gets Stiles on his back and starts fucking into him hard, until he’s slamming home one last time and coming with a growl in Stiles’ ear.

Collapsing next to each other, Stiles can’t help but look over at Derek and wonder how much longer he can hide the fact that he’s madly in love with him. If they stay stuck here much longer, he’s more than positive that he’s finally going to crack and tell him, and it’s going to be in the heat of the moment.

If it’s one thing he knows, telling someone you love them while you’re in the middle of having sex is never the best thing to do. But Stiles knows he’s the king of doing things at the worst moment. 

Stiles gets up off the floor and wanders into the bathroom. He grabs a washcloth so that he can clean them both up. When he exits the bathroom, it’s to see Derek already dozing off. Derek hisses when Stiles swipes at his stomach with the cold cloth. Once he’s satisfied, Stiles settles down next to him until he’s curled back up against Derek’s side, where it’s warmer. His confession still sits at the tip of his tongue, but he squeezes his eyes shut as he presses his face against Derek’s chest and tells himself that he can’t tell him. Not right now. Not like this. 

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the nerve to tell him. But knowing him, it’ll be at the worst time, because that’s just how things go with him. 

It takes him a long time, until he can feel Derek’s breaths go even in sleep, that Stiles finally lets himself fall asleep. 

-

Stiles bundles up in as many layers as he can the next day and tries to venture out down the road, just to survey the extent of where things are at right now. The wind’s blowing a little hard, but not enough that it’s not safe to go on a short walk. Derek’s right by his side anyway, and he knows Derek would make sure he was safe. If a werewolf thinks it’s okay for a walk, then it should be safe enough. 

The snow is piled high against the cabin. They’ve been shoveling the snow from the front door daily, so it’s pretty easy to get outside. Their car is pretty much snowed in, and that’s going to be a pain to unearth once they can leave. 

They walk down the road, trudging through several feet of snow until they finally make it to the end. The roads are buried and there’s no sign that any snow plowers have tried to make their way out here. Which figures, since they’re a little ways outside of civilization, and Stiles is certain that they’ll take care of everyone first before venturing out here to take care of it. At least, that’s what they’re both hoping and counting on, but there’s no telling how things will go in the end. There’s other cabins around this area, and there’s gotta be people who live out here all year long. They can’t leave anyone out here to fend for themselves forever, right? 

“This is pretty bad,” Stiles says. 

“I’ve seen worse,” Derek says. “There was one time, Laura and I were staying deep in the woods in Colorado and a snow storm hit. If we weren’t werewolves, I’m sure it would’ve been a lot worse than it was.” 

“And your sister could turn into a full wolf,” Stiles says. “So that helped a lot, right?” 

Derek nods. “She’d full shift and hunt for food that we could cook.”

Stiles whistles. “Us humans can hunt too, but it’s not as easy. I’ve got a decent aim, but there’s no way I’d brave the worst of the storm for food.” 

“When the snow is blowing too hard, it makes it more difficult. She didn’t have it easy, but she managed.” 

“I still wish I could’ve met her,” Stiles says after a moment. “She sounds like she was pretty badass, every time you tell me about her.” 

“She would have really liked you,” Derek tells him after a few beats of silence.

Stiles ducks his head. “Yeah?” 

Derek nods. “Yeah.”

They’re quiet the rest of the way back to the cabin. Once inside, Stiles pokes at the fire before settling in front of it to warm up his hands. Derek wanders off somewhere, but Stiles is going to let him be. He typically still gets pretty quiet every time he mentions his sister, even if it’s been years. But he gets it, will always get that no matter how much time passes that it’s still like a fresh wound. If Derek wants to be alone, he’ll give him his much needed space.

Later that night, Derek finally emerges from wherever he went off to and curls up beside Stiles on the couch. Stiles pulls the blanket until it’s draped across Derek’s lap as well. Stiles lets Derek rest his head against his shoulder. When Stiles starts talking about something random, something he’s probably told Derek before, Derek sighs happily and snuggles closer to him, his arm snaking its way across Stiles’ middle. 

Stiles smiles against the top of Derek’s head and keeps talking until he’s sure that Derek’s been lulled to sleep. 

-

If it’s one thing that he’s noticed Derek likes to do, it’s leave marks all along Stiles’ body. Sometimes, Stiles will just settle into Derek’s lap as they make out, and Derek will zero in on a part of his neck and suck so many hickeys into his skin. Since they started this, Stiles will spend some mornings just staring at the dark spots that litter his skin, marveling at how any of this has been happening. It makes him hope that Derek still keeps leaving the marks, because maybe after this is all over, he can hold onto it just a little bit longer.

Right now, Stiles is sitting in Derek’s lap as Derek is sucking new marks into his neck. They’re still fully clothed, both in just sweatpants. But their shirts are off, left discarded on the couch. Stiles is rolling his hips every time Derek’s teeth dig into his skin, every time Derek gives a particular hard suck that has Stiles moaning like he can’t get enough. 

Derek’s hand sneaks its way into the back of Stiles’ sweats, resting on his ass. 

“Derek,” Stiles breathes as his hand comes up to hold onto the back of Derek’s head, urging him to keep going, or do something.

Derek rubs a finger against his hole, but doesn’t go any further, just a small tease. Stiles tries to press back, but Derek’s got a firm hold of his waist. 

“What do you want?” Derek asks. He rubs against him again, a little harder this time.

“You know what I want,” Stiles says. 

“Would rather you tell me,” Derek says. “You want to ride my fingers?” 

“Please,” Stiles practically begs.

“Or do you want me to finger you until you come?” Derek asks, pressing just the tip of one inside.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Stiles chants. “Come on, please, Derek.”

Derek starts with just one finger, getting Stiles adjusted to the feel of it, before he pushes in with two. Derek’s fingers are thick, perfect, and Stiles keeps trying to push back against the feeling of them. When Derek curls his fingers just right, brushing up against the bundle of nerves instead, Stiles moans loudly.

Derek starts up a rhythm with his fingers. Stiles manages to pull him into a kiss that’s uncoordinated, but still manages to be perfect. He gets off that way, rubbing off on Derek as he fucks him with his fingers. As Stiles tries to regain his breath, he can feel that Derek’s still hard beneath him. He can feel it pressed against his ass. Stiles rolls his hips, causing Derek to choke out a moan. Stiles smirks as he does it again, and again. He bets he could do this until Derek comes. 

He knows there’s lube stuffed into the cushions of the couch from when Derek discarded it, though, and he kinda wants to ride Derek. He’s still feeling sensitive from his own orgasm, but he thinks he’ll be fine. Stiles gets up long enough to shimmy out of his sweatpants. Derek just tugs his own down enough to free his cock. When Stiles sits back in his lap, it’s to feel Derek hard and pressing against him. 

“Are you sure?” Derek asks, even if he’s currently thrusting up a little, seeking out exactly what he wants. If Stiles told him no, he knows Derek would let him walk away. But Stiles wants to. He wants so much. 

Stiles rolls his hips, reaching back to grab hold of Derek’s cock and helping him until Stiles starts to sit down on him. He gets a few bounces before Derek’s grabbing him firmly by the hips and pushing him back against the couch. He lets Derek pound into him until Derek’s coming with a growl. 

-

“Day eight,” Stiles calls out. He’s standing outside on the back porch as he watches Derek cut even more wood for the fire. “If we’re lucky, we can leave in two days.”

“Doubtful,” Derek yells back as he gives a particular hard hit to a piece of wood. The wood splinters as it is cut into two. Derek lets the pieces fall before he grabs for the last log in the pile.

Stiles snorts, because he knows he’s right. “I don’t know if we can manage two weeks.” 

Derek shrugs. “We’ll run out of lube by then.”

Stiles chokes on his hot cocoa. That he did not expect to come out of Derek’s mouth. Maybe something about the weather, or an agreement. But not that. “I think we’ll manage.” 

Derek tosses the last two pieces in the small pile he had made. “Are you going to help me bring this in?” 

“Nah,” Stiles says. “Just going to stare at you flexing your muscles.”

“Stare at my muscles while you’re helping me drag this inside then,” Derek tells him. 

“Let me put my drink down.” 

They spend the next ten minutes hauling everything inside. Stiles ends up covered in a thin sheet of snow and by the time they make it back inside and Derek has shut the door, it’s coming down hard again. It’s probably going to snow into the night, leaving yet another foot of snow on the ground. If they had any power on, they’d be able to look at some sort of radar for this and try to figure out when they’d have some sort of reprieve from this snow. 

Stiles startles when Derek’s arms wrap around him, his chilly fingers sliding up the front of his shirt. “You’re supposed to be a walking heater, but your hands are freezing.” 

“I’ll warm back up eventually,” Derek says. “I’m a werewolf, but I’m not immune to the freezing temps.”

“Fine,” Stiles says. “But warm them up somewhere else.”

“Mmm,” Derek hums, nipping at his ear. “I saw marshmallows earlier, if you want to roast some on the fire.” 

Roasting marshmallows does sound like a great idea. Stiles turns in his hold, until he can wrap his arms around Derek’s neck. Derek’s smiling, something small and private, that makes warmth curl in the pit of Stiles’ stomach despite the chilliness of the air. Sometimes he’s reminded of how far Derek’s come; still sometimes broody and an asshole, but he’s a little bit softer around the edges. Stiles can’t help but lean forward and kiss Derek, chaste and sweet. When he pulls away, there’s a faint blush to Derek’s cheeks.

“Let’s go roast some marshmallows,” Stiles says as he starts pulling Derek in the direction of the living room.

They make quick work with starting a new fire in the fireplace. Once they get it going, Stiles settles in front of it and reaches for the little sticks sitting beside it. Derek’s holding the bag of marshmallows and puts a couple on his stick before he starts to roast them. Stiles leans against him as he tries to roast his own. All in all, it’s a nice night, despite the howling wind outside.

-

Day nine dawns with another foot of snow and the wind howling so loudly that it rattles the windows. Not too much that he thinks they’ll shatter, but it’s still loud enough that it has Stiles’ rapt attention. He’s really hoping this is the storm’s last hurrah before it finally fizzles out. The snow loses its appeal after nine days of it. 

“You know,” Stiles starts as he taps a finger against the window, “I’m stuck between saying the snow is really pretty and also that this fucking sucks.” 

“It can be both,” Derek says. “It’s pretty, but it sucks. Be glad you don’t have to deal with this every winter.” 

“Good point,” Stiles says. 

“And this wouldn’t be that bad, if we weren’t without electricity and heat.” 

And yeah, that’s another good point. Stiles nods and wraps the blanket he’s in tighter around him. “I miss the heat.” 

Derek’s stretched out on the couch with a book in hand. When Stiles looks over at him, it’s to see Derek crooking a finger at him and patting himself on the chest. Stiles stops to stare, thinking about it for all of a minute, before he’s clambering off of his spot and curling up on top of Derek. He gets one leg wrapped around Derek’s waist, another tangled up with Derek’s legs, with his head resting in the crook of Derek’s neck. Derek still manages to hold onto his book with one hand, but the other wraps snuggly around Stiles’ shoulders. Stiles can’t help the smile. 

“Better?” Derek asks, voice surprisingly soft. 

“A little,” Stiles replies. “Warmer. Comfortable.” 

Derek snorts out a laugh, rubbing a hand against Stiles back. “You were the one who decided to sit by the cold window.”

“Shhh,” Stiles says as he feels the gentle pulls of sleep. “I know that, but I wanted to watch the snow fall.” 

Derek tugs a blanket down on top of them with Stiles snuggling impossibly closer against him. Somewhere between feeling the blanket draped on top of him to Derek’s arm going around his waist, Stiles falls asleep. He’s just going to take a little nap, right here on top of Derek. 

-

“I miss having a warm shower,” Stiles says later that night. They’re both curled up in the bed and Stiles has the comforter pulled up to just underneath his chin. Derek’s lounging next to him with one arm tucked underneath his head. Stiles envies how Derek isn’t as freezing as Stiles currently feels. He’s pretty sure if he wasn’t wearing two socks right now, his toes would be little ice picks. 

“A warm shower would be nice,” Derek agrees. “We’ll get to have one eventually. This won’t last forever.” 

“I know, but I’m freezing, Derek,” Stiles complains with a slight whine. He buries his head against Derek’s chest, trying to get close enough to leech the warmth from his body. Right about now, Stiles kinda wishes he was a werewolf, if only for the fact that he’d be warmer. 

Not that he actually wants to be one. He’s perfectly happy being the human spark in the group. But god, the _warmth_. 

Derek wraps an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and tugs him even closer, until Stiles is practically laying on top of him. Stiles lands on top of him with an oomph noise, but quickly settles in. Derek’s surprisingly comfortable, despite all of his muscles. All nice and warm and cuddly. Stiles sighs, rubbing his face against Derek’s chest like a very content cat. Derek laughs quietly and rubs a hand down the expanse of Stiles’ back. 

“Are you good?” Derek asks. 

“Fucking perfect,” Stiles mumbles against him. “You’re so warm.” 

“The perks of running hot,” Derek says, and Stiles can practically hear the smile in his voice. 

“Mmhmm. The best perks. Also you’re very comfy, you know that,” Stiles tells him as he tries to snuggle impossibly closer. That just seems to pull another laugh out of Derek, and it’s such a great sound. Derek’s got such a great laugh. “‘M’ just gonna stay right here, okay.” 

“You do that,” Derek says. 

Stiles doesn’t even want to do anything else. They could, and he knows that. But all he feels like doing right now is laying right here on top of Derek and being all warm and comfortable. He doesn’t want to move a single inch. Not to mention, he always feels so safe in Derek’s arms. Sure, Derek’s the alpha, leader of the pack, but Stiles isn’t a werewolf and isn’t drawn to him the same way the others are. Still, Derek manages to make Stiles feel like he’s safe, and happy, and did he mention how warm he is?

“This is nice,” Stiles murmurs with a content smile. He’s so comfortable he’s falling asleep. Derek’s rubbing soothing circles into his back, which just makes him feel even more content and comfortable, makes him fall asleep quicker.

-

Stiles spends an hour sitting by the window the next day, huddled up in two blankets. The entire hour it doesn’t snow once. He realizes it hasn’t snowed at all today, and he wonders if this is finally a break in the storm. If they’re lucky, maybe they’ll see the snow plows tomorrow and maybe they can start unearthing their car. Maybe they can finally leave in a few days. The snow may be pretty, but he misses Beacon Hills and the warmth of his apartment. 

That night, when they’re sitting in front of the fireplace, eating soup Derek managed to heat up, the electricity flickers back on. After sitting so many days in near darkness, the fluorescent lights are a little blinding, and Stiles blinks at the lamp on the stand by the couch. 

Stiles loudly cheers, pumping his fists in the air. “Finally!”

The heat kicks on with a loud groan a moment later and Stiles loudly cheers again. Sweet, lovely heat, oh how Stiles missed that. 

And then it dawns on him, that they don’t really need to huddle for warmth anymore. They’ll also be leaving for home in a day or two, and that means they’ll be going their separate ways. He’s not holding out any hope that they’ll still be doing any of this back home. Things will go back to how they were, and that doesn’t include them being together in any way. 

Something must show on his face or in his scent, because when he looks up, Derek’s frowning down at him, a confused expression on his face. Stiles plasters on a fake smile. 

“So I guess we really should be leaving in a day or two,” he says. 

“If all goes well, we should,” Derek agrees. “I’m going to start shoveling around the car tomorrow.” 

“We should also start repacking everything since we kinda unpacked some of it again.” 

“That shouldn’t take us long.” 

“Yeah…” Stiles says, voice trailing off. He looks over at the stairs as he considers it. “I think I’m going to go ahead and start on that.” 

He doesn’t wait to see if Derek says anything. Instead he gets up and makes his way up to the room and starts on the process of making sure he’s got everything packed and ready. He doesn’t know how long he’s up there for, probably a good half an hour, but he’s almost finished when he feels a hand on his waist. 

Slightly surprised, he turns to face Derek. He doesn’t expect Derek to cup his face and kiss him. He drops the shirt that was in his hands and brings his arms around Derek’s neck, holding on as Derek kisses him like the world depends on it. Derek’s tongue sweeps in, curling with his own. It’s such a toe curling kiss that leaves Stiles breathless when he pulls away. Derek drags him down on the bed at the same time that Stiles kisses Derek again. 

From the moment his back hits the bed, the kiss turns more heated. Stiles tugs at Derek’s sweater, urging him to take it off. They’re wearing too many clothes and Stiles just wants that sweater off. Derek easily complies and starts stripping off his clothes. Stiles makes quick work of his too. Before long, Derek manages to flip Stiles onto his front and starts kissing his way down Stiles’ back, stopping just at the dip of his back. Derek preps him with his mouth and fingers, until Stiles is an incoherent moaning mess below him. And once he’s done, thinks Stiles is prepped enough, he starts working his cock into Stiles. Once fully seated, Derek just spends a moment with his mouth pressed against Stiles’ ear just breathing. 

Stiles wants to beg him to move, but keeps quiet, save for the few moans escaping his lips. 

When Derek starts to pull out, he doesn’t expect for Derek to lean fully back and start pulling Stiles with him, until Stiles is seated on his cock with his back pressed against Derek’s front. This position manages to get Derek’s dick positioned right on Stiles’ prostate. Stiles shouts Derek’s name, his hands scrambling back to grab Derek’s head, his hair, anywhere he can touch. Derek uses his full strength to lift Stiles off and then slam him back down, nailing his prostate every time. Stiles’ cock is leaking precome and he feels like a hair trigger away from coming. 

“Derek, yes, yes, fuck,” Stiles moans. He loves this, loves Derek so much it hurts. When Derek slams him back down, coming with a near roar, Stiles realizes he said all of that outloud. His eyes widen as he collapses onto the bed. He’s so stunned by his own confession that he doesn’t even care that he’s currently lying in the wet spot. 

Next to him, Derek’s quiet, save for his breathing. They just had amazing sex and of course Stiles has to finally go and ruin the moment by confessing that he’s in love with Derek. 

“So,” Stiles says, before falling silent once more. He could just get up right now and walk out of this room and just avoid Derek for the next two days. But they’re going to be trapped in the car for six hours as they head back to Beacon Hills, and Stiles is pretty sure that’s going to be one awkward car ride, especially if they don’t talk about it. 

Stiles has great ideas, but he does not have good ideas when it comes to his love life, or Derek for that matter. Not right now anyway, because he quickly gets off the bed and hurries into the bathroom, where he shuts and locks the door. He doesn’t bother to chance another look at Derek, much too worried he’ll see something on his face that’ll end up breaking Stiles’ heart.

He spends the longest time under the hot spray of the shower. Long enough that the water starts to turn a little cold and his fingers have started to prune up. When he gets out, he takes his time drying off. Derek’s not in the room when he opens the door. Stiles dresses in something warm and comfortable, before pausing at the door. He’s so nervous to go downstairs, but he has to face this. So he heads back downstairs. Derek’s nowhere to be found. The car’s still outside, but it’s not like he expected it to be gone, since it’s going to be an ordeal just to shovel the snow. 

He starts wondering where Derek might’ve gone, but when he walks toward the back of the house he gets his answer when he hears the chopping of wood. Sure enough, when he peers out the back window, it’s to see Derek chopping. He could stay here and keep watching, but instead Stiles turns around and heads back to the living room. They still have firewood, so Stiles shoves a few pieces inside and lights it. They might have heat and electricity again, but the fire is still an added bonus. 

“We might be able to leave tomorrow,” comes Derek’s voice some time later, startling Stiles out of his thoughts. “They said they’ll have the roads clear by tomorrow morning. I already finished packing my clothes.” 

Stiles nods. “Alright, if you’re sure.” 

Derek doesn’t say anything else and when Stiles twists around to look at him, it’s to see the new pile of wood and no Derek. Stiles sighs. This is going to be a long night. There’s plenty of other beds, Stiles can easily just go back to his room he’s been in since they first arrived, but instead he curls up on the couch after he puts out the fire. 

He wakes up the next morning with an extra blanket on him and his heart twists at the idea that Derek did that. Maybe he didn’t completely ruin everything.

When Stiles starts hauling his stuff out of the cabin, he notices that the car is completely clear of snow. The roads are clear as well. They must’ve been plowed during the night and Derek must’ve worked on the snow that surrounded their car. Stiles sighs as he stares up at the cloudy sky. It still looks like it could snow again, but for now there’s no sign of another storm, and he knows even if nothing bad had happened, today’s probably the best opportunity they have to make it back before any other storm approaches.

The car ride back is quiet. Derek grunts out a response when Stiles wishes him a good morning. The rest of the time they don’t say a word to each other. Stiles keeps his face pressed against the window, watching the trees pass them by. Thankfully the car ride goes by relatively fast and before he knows it, Derek’s parking outside Stiles’ apartment.

Part of him wants to turn to Derek and say something, anything at all to make things better.

Stiles gets his things out of the trunk. He could just say bye and head inside, but instead he says, “I’m sorry, Derek. I didn’t mean to make it weird between us by telling you my feelings. I get it, if you just wanted to keep it as whatever happens in the cabin stays there. Friends, right?” Stiles can’t tell what the expression on Derek’s face means, he’s too good at hiding what he feels. Stiles pats the top of the car. “See you later.” 

Stiles shuts the door and starts heading up to his apartment. He needs to do laundry and get settled back in after a long vacation. There’s too much to do, but at least it’ll keep his mind busy instead of thinking about Derek and how much he screwed up. He doesn’t expect to hear the car door slam shut, or for Derek to call out his name. 

“You didn’t make it weird, Stiles,” Derek says. 

Stiles shudders out a breath. “I didn’t? But you got so quiet and started avoiding me.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to process or say anything before you were locking yourself in the bathroom.” 

Stiles turns to see Derek with his hands stuffed into his hoodie, his posture defensive, like he’s afraid he’s going to get rejected even though Stiles was the one who confessed first. But Derek’s clearly nervous here, and it fills Stiles with a little hope.

“So what’re you saying?” Stiles asks. 

“I’m trying to say that I feel the same,” Derek tells him. “I wouldn’t have slept with you in the first place if I didn’t. We’ve been friends too long and I care too much about you to string you along like that. You really thought I would?” 

Stiles shakes his head, because no, he really didn’t, but it wasn’t like he was going to get his hopes up. 

“I thought my feelings about you were pretty obvious,” Derek’s saying. 

Stiles thinks back at the gentle way Derek handled him, how Derek would hold him close when he got too cold. Yeah, okay, it was pretty obvious. But still. “I thought at times that maybe, but-” Stiles cuts himself off with a shrug, digging the toe of his shoe into the ground. 

“You didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Derek finishes for him. “Yeah, Stiles, me too. But I’m crazy about you, been in love with you for a long time” 

Stiles lets out a breathless laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I love you. We totally went about this backwards.” 

“How about we start this over and I take you to dinner sometime this week?” Derek suggests.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds great,” Stiles agrees. “Friday? Dinner and a movie?”

Derek cracks a smile. “We can go out, or do dinner at my place.” 

“Dinner at your place would be better,” Stiles says, already moving close enough to kiss him. They’d already be somewhere with a bed, and maybe they should take this several steps back and start this completely over, but Stiles would be lying if he said he didn’t want to get Derek in bed by the end of the night.

Derek leans the rest of the way, kissing him so thoroughly that it makes Stiles’ hands grip tight to Derek’s jacket. When Derek pulls away, he does so with a quick peck to Stiles’ mouth. “Friday.” 

Stiles nods as he walks backward, feeling happier than he has in awhile. “Friday.” 

He watches Derek leave and can’t help the smile on his face as he thinks about their upcoming plans.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me over on tumblr @darkenednights, but I gotta warn you that it's a multifandom mess.


End file.
